


Bed Head

by 1990s



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Blowjobs, Dowoon gives it to him so good man, Dowoon wakes him up with sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Riding, Sleepy Sex, it’s all Love Making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 12:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1990s/pseuds/1990s
Summary: After so many concerts, Wonpil's too exhausted to stay awake during his only alone time with Dowoon after months.But Dowoon's a bit too distracted to sleep.





	Bed Head

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Read me!
> 
> So, this is my first DAY6 smut. And when i tell you i have so many more to post... i'm telling u i got so many to post!!!  
> Please, tell me what you think! And also if you'd like me to post some of the other stories i got in stock. 
> 
> Alsoooo,  
> in this fanfic Dowoon and Wonpil have been together for quite awhile, meaning wake up sex is something they've discussed and agreed to beforehand. so, this is consensual! therefore if you'd like to try this on your partner, please make sure you do the same.

“your hair’s really sof’ after you wash it, hyung.”

wonpil sleepily chirps “really?” as he relaxes deeper into dowoon’s arms. unaware that it drives him further into the clutches of sleep, so tempting and right behind his eyelids. he was so tired. no, exhausted, sore from performing all day. it was becoming increasingly difficult to fight back how much he needed sleep all day these days.

“sleepy?”

wonpil sheepishly nods. he feels bad. he wants dowoon to continue talking about all the cute dog videos he’s seen on instagram today or about how many drumsticks he thinks he’s broken in the span of this year. wonpil really wants to listen to him, but he can’t hide the way his eyes begins to flutter and the way his head nods from dowoon. and eventually, he stops rambling. wonpil frowns at the absence of dowoon’s smooth, deep voice. listening to his boyfriend’s calm breathing just made him sleepier. but he doesn’t want to fall asleep. it’s one of these rare days where they actually get to cuddle up and enjoy each other’s company— alone. wonpil didn’t want it cut it short, even if just by a second.

he tugs on dowoon’s shirt sleeve. “keep talking…”

he doesn’t. instead, dowoon opts for twirling wonpil silky hair strands until they form weak twists that resemble braids which he then combs out to start all over again. dowoon’s at this for awhile. he’s as talkative as he is touchy today, but he couldn’t really help it. wonpil smelled so good after his shower, and looked so especially cute clad in one of his old sweaters and heart-patterned boxers. he sighs as he pulls his hand away, wonpil eyes are now closed, and his breathing has long since slowed.

“hyung?”

no answer.

carefully, he turns his body to observe the man besides him.  
he’s close to dowoon’s side, practically clinging. it spreads a smile across dowoon’s face. “breathing through your mouth is no good. you’ll get a sore throat.” dowoon whispers, noticing how wonpil’s lips have slightly parted, causing each breath to come out as a soft, warm puff. “and you won’t be able to sing. what would we do then?”

okay. if he were to be completely real, he was aware that what he’s doing and feeling would be hypocritical to the public eye. dowoon had complained many times both on and off camera about how he hated wonpil sneaking into his bed right before bedtime but the truth was he has grown accustomed to it, almost needed it. the feeling of his bed dipping and the blankets carefully lifting right after he had switched out the lights made all this troubles melt away to the warmth that cuddled up besides him so often. wonpil’s presence has become comforting.

still, dowoon can’t really explain what comes over him. whether he was egged on by a wave of late night emotions caused by everything he feels for wonpil or just by the fact that he’s a healthy young man with desires, he wouldn’t be able to answer if you asked. dowoon’s hand moves to gentle cup wonpil’s sleeping face. yeah, dowoon was the technically the maknae of the group, and he was definitely still treated like one from time to time, but that never made him want to care and coddle wonpil any less.

wonpil stirs at his touch, and he watches the way he nuzzles closer into him before flipping on his back. dowoon can feel his heart do a barrel roll. wonpil has managed to kick the blankets off himself, exposing how his sweater has risen up, and his boxers have dipped down. a rush of heat hits the tips of his ears, and he knows their red. dowoon wasn’t to be taken lightly when he said how good wonpil looked today, because he looked really, really good.

much like a switch had been flicked on, the sudden desire to want to touch and explore wonpil leaves his mouth dry.  
as quietly as he can, he raises himself up and moves downward to the foot of the bed to situates himself between wonpil’s legs, which he slowly pushes further apart to get better between.

wonpil lets out a small sigh.  
dowoon pauses.

nothing again. wonpil’s still fast asleep.

anticipation flutters through dowoon’s veins he immediately gives in to planting kisses— soft, warm, and passionate little pecks— all along wonpil’s uncovered tummy.  
dowoon is the shy boy he claimed himself to be on ASC, but even he knows he’d be stupid if he lets his shyness ruin an opportunity like this. where they’re alone, and wonpil lays so pliant underneath him.  
when wonpil still shows no sign of waking, confidence within dowoon starts to stir awake instead. dowoon sinks lower, kissing at the band of wonpil’s underwear. with his hands, he slowly pulls until they give way and slide down wonpil’s smooth skin, leaving his lower half bare.

wonpil reacts this time, squirming and frowning from the rush of cool air that hits sensitive parts of his body. he attempts to move on his side to curl into himself for warmth, but dowoon’s quick to gently hold at his hip bones, preventing him.  
dowoon leans forward until he’s capable of giving a wet kiss to the tip of wonpil’s cock. enticed, he ghosts across the semi erect shaft with his lips all the way to the base, before starting up again. when wonpil exhales a needy whine, he slowly takes wonpil’s cock in his hand, and begins to pump.

wonpil isn't fully hard yet, but dowoon is. he’s so worked up already, and he’s avid on getting the man beneath him on the same level, if not more.

 

wonpil’s cock twitches the same time he lets out a quiet mewl. dowoon licks his lips, hungry. he can’t see wonpil’s face as clearly as he wishes in such dark lighting, but every other way he’s reacting gets dowoon feeling hotter and more eager. he sticks out his tongue and presses it flat against wonpil’s cock, interchanging between swirling his tongue around the head or licking along wonpil’s most prominent veins. dowoon can tell he’s got wonpil on the brink of waking up already.

his eyes flicker to the clock. It’s one in the morning, and he can’t help but to feel a bit guilty. they’ve got to be up again in 4 hours, and wonpil did look exhausted before he fell asleep. but unless wonpil told him to, there was really no turning back.

he opens his mouth, wraps his plump lips around wonpil’s cock to accompany his hand which he moves in firm, confident strokes.

when wonpil’s long, slender hands come to bury themselves in dowoon’s thick, curly hair strands dowoon smirks. well, as best as he can smirk with a dick in his mouth.

“ _Uwah—!_ ”

ripped from a deep sleep, wonpil has a hard time adjusting to the situation. his head feels like it’s floating, swimming in sleep that stubbornly holds his body down fogs his mind, but it only serves as an emphasis on the sudden onslaught of pleasure that floods through him like a tidal wave. wonpil brings his legs up and bends them at the knees, spreading them a little further for dowoon. dowoon would smirk here again if he could, too, but he’s focused on giving wonpil the best blowjob of his life right now that he hasn’t even looked up at him. dowoon’s moves his head down further, right until he’s got all off wonpil in his mouth. (which really isn’t that difficult to do) and then he’s messily but so perfectly bobbing his head up and down, promising wonpil that this was something worth losing sleep over. it is. it feels amazing.

wonpil squeals, his body feel like it’s dissolving, succumbing completely to the intense feeling around his cock. he presses his head back further into the pillow, feeling himself throb in dowoon’s mouth. his face is burning, turning a brighter red with each slurp and suck that sounds through the room. it feels so good, dowoon is so good, he’s can’t control all the little noises he’s making nor fight back at the way his body quivers and the way his legs quake.

“dowoon!” wonpil moans.  
dowoon pulls off of wonpil, lifting his head up to fix his eyes on wonpil’s body and face. wonpil’s nipples are hard, he can see them through the material of his shirt, and the way his bottom lip is held out in a pout with his eyebrows knit together is so rewarding to see. he keeps his hand moving, giving wonpil consistent but slow strokes. dowoon’s intent is to leave wonpil horny, burning, and needy for dowoon. not unsatisfied, tortured, or uncomfortable. he’s giving him exactly what he wants while getting him to want more at the same time. it’s as romantic as a blowjob/handjob can get. wonpil keens, pleasure lapping through him in waves. his back arches off the bed slightly, and his hips begin to find a pace to rock up into dowoon’s fist.

dowoon is really dragging this out. it feels like forever to wonpil, though just waking, making it difficult to repress his cries that are beginning to increase in volume. but dowoon doesn’t budge until each one of wonpil’s breaths shift to frequent little moans that tense his belly on exhales. a telltale sign wonpil’s getting close.

dowoon tears his attention from staring at what he can see if wonpil’s face back down to his cock, and then he spits, to lube up his cock further for an even smoother glide of his hand. always eager to please, aiming to make wonpil feel as good as possible now that he knows he’s got him on edge. dowoon takes just the head of his cock back in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks for more suction.

wonpil’s chest rises and falls, and he begins to squirm. so, so close to release. his eyes begin to flutter again until they’re rolling back, his hands digging themselves in the sheets that surround them. the only warning he’s able to give dowoon is a high pitched squeak, followed by choking on a gasp. wonpil trembles hard as he cums, his legs pressing against the sides of dowoon’s head as his back arches up and off the bed.

dowoon pulls off as soon as wonpil finishes. his cheeks glowing red from holding back his need to gag and cough. he sits back onto his knees, adam’s apple bobbing slowly as he swallows wonpil’s cum.

wonpil, meekly, “i’m sorry— i couldn’t—“

“it’s ok. i wanted you to.”

dowoon crawls so he’s over wonpil, in search of a proper kiss, which wonpil is more than happy to give. They’ve immediately got their hands wrapped around each other, roaming as they kiss. it’s passionate, intimate, and warm.  
“are you tired?” dowoon asks, but wonpil is shaking his head before he can finish what he was trying to say, already knowing where dowoon was going with this. “i’m alright. i really want you.” and he’s looking up at dowoon with heavy lidded eyes, filled with such adoration, and desire it launches dowoon’s heart up to his throat.

dowoon reaches forward, shoving his hand beneath their pillows to fish for a little familiar bottle that they always kept nearby when they know they’ll have time together. dowoon is promptly popping the cap open, squeezing to coat a thick layer over three over his fingers. The buzz of needfulness for one another was forming into an elephant, suffocating. he had to remind himself to breathe.  
when he’s got a good enough amount on his fingers that will prevent any discomfort, he brings his body close to wonpil’s body, for his lips to claim wonpil’s neck with more tender kisses. wonpil’s heart slams in his chest, anticipation growing in the both of them as dowoon’s hand disappears from where wonpil can see.

dowoon blows a small, cool breath over wonpil’s nipples. a smile breaks out on his face when wonpil’s nipples quickly react, perking up. pink and cute, they remind him off flower buds. “dowoon,” wonpil huffs, “stop making me wait.. c’mon…” dowoon intakes the goosebumps he’s left in his wake across wonpil’s skin once more before he’s complying. slowly, spreading wonpil’s legs open for the second time. “look at me..” he whispers. his lubed fingers circle around wonpil’s entrance, pressing into it.

wonpil’s practically purring out ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs.’ rolling his hips so he’s pushing against dowoon’s fingers. dowoon presses his other hand on wonpil’s tummy to steady him. “breath, baby.” dowoon tries, and wonpil’s lips form into a pout prior to complying. inhaling in and out, stilling himself. he’s compensated for it.

he was still so sensitive from his orgasm just a few minutes ago, and so the smooth push of dowoon’s fingers inside him gets all the nerves in his body stand on end and ignite all at once. dowoon slowly slides them down to the hilt before scissoring them inside of wonpil, stretching him, before alternating between moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion. he’s making sure to prep wonpil as best as he can.

“do you feel good?” he asks, a bit breathless at the erotic sight that begins to unfold beneath him.

“keep going...” wonpil whispers.

“i’ll take care of you tonight, hyung.”

“yeah,” wonpil rushes out, chewing on his bottom lip. it’s been a while since they’ve been able to get any farther than this.

the removal of dowoon’s fingers has wonpil feeling anything but taken care of, though. wonpil starts to whine again, but he’s cut short by his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of dowoon lining his hard cock up to his opening. wonpil holds his breath.  
slow and steady, he can feel dowoon fill him up, how his walls greedily accept and tighten around dowoon. his fingers are close to nothing compared to his cock.

he isn’t long, he’s average when it comes to length, but where he was exceptional was his girth and wonpil really wouldn’t want it any other way. he loves it. there’s a slight burn—a warmth that spreads through him like the hum of hard liquor— as dowoon pushes into him, the feeling of the stretch buzzes up and down wonpil’s spine, he’s always been addicted to it.

when he’s in as deep as he can get, he halts.

dowoon moves his hands up and down wonpil’s body, stroking over his nipples, watching them rise and fall with wonpil’s little puffs of arousal. their eyes lock again.

wonpil’s heart skips a beat, and then he’s begging dowoon to move.  
of course, dowoon was never the one for hesitation. he’s sliding out of wonpil until just the head of his cock’s left in, before sliding right back in. the way wonpil’s mouth falls open in a silent moan, head tipping back, is his green light for more. he knows he’s doing good.

dowoon rolls his hips forward, hooking his arm with the back of wonpil’s knees to push his legs up and further open, nice and slow. the bunk bed begins to creak and rock with each one of dowoon’s heavy thrusts. dowoon is sure to angle his hips a different way every time he pushes in, targeting that spot that’ll have wonpil seeing stars. his eyes are glued to wonpil’s face, watching the way his hair flops and falls into his eyes with each push of his hips. or watching how his face contorts with each and every moan, or how his tongue glides over his lips before his teeth sink into his bottom lip to swallow back noises that could get them caught.

dowoon’s thrusts are languid but deep. lazy, sleepy sex meant to make both their bodies bloom from onslaughts of heat and pleasure. and with a few more precisely angled thrusts, he gets closer to achieving that.  
a moan, clear and loud and lengthy escapes wonpil’s lips. wonpil squeezes his eyes shut, seeing a frenzy of colors go off like fireworks behind his eyelids as he forces his own hips back into dowoon’s thrusts. he’s able to feel wonpil’s clench harder around as if to hold him still, and the feeling manages to get dowoon vocal, too.

he can’t get enough of it. he loves making love to wonpil, not sloppy, fast fucking. (although sometimes that’s all they could manage between concerts stages and/or music shows.) dowoon favored dragging out wonpil’s pleasure like this, it always made everything so much sweeter, so worthwhile, to see his partner lose himself in something he’s causing. dowoon always thought that nothing in this world could compare to having wonpil flushed out beneath him, legs spread, with beads of sweat rubbing down his forehead. this night confirmed it. he always looked so sexy.

with his head swimming, dowoon reaches forward, wrapping his arms around the small of wonpil’s back to hoist him forward, up into his arms and lap, positioning himself so he’s sitting criss cross, wonpil straddling him.

wonpil automatically understands, familiar with how much dowoon liked to change their positions. he eagerly presses their bodies flush against one another’s, wrapping his arms securely around dowoon’s neck, snuggling into him for support. his thighs tremble as he keeps himself up for dowoon to enter him again.

they’re closer this way, dowoon can feel wonpil’s heart beat slamming against his chest. he can feel when wonpil shivers, and feel each moan that makes his body vibrate. it’s intense, really intense, having wonpil so close to him like this. and the moonlight and street lamps that manages to soak in between the opening of their shades makes wonpil look like an angel.

he gives a few experimental thrust upward. and soon enough, he succeeds in hitting wonpil’s g-spot dead on. “there?” dowoon asks. and wonpil’s voice cracks as he shouts “yes!”  
now, dowoon can really get going. dowoon’s got his arms around wonpil’s body, hands on his ass, fingertips kneading and squeezing at the plump skin as he fucks up into him, dragging out contact with wonpil’s prostate as much as he can.

wonpil’s sweating, hot from a mixture of their blaring heater (jae gets cold easily) and their current ordeal, but he doesn’t want to let go of dowoon. his nipples brush against dowoon’s firm chest. his cock, trapped between their bodies. it sends his mind to mush, unable to focus on anything but the incredible sensations dowoon is making him feel. a deep heat starts in to bloom in his belly.

“i’m—going to—go crazy.” wonpil pants. and briefly, wonpil really wonders if it was possible to fuck someone to death because he’s sure dowoon is close to achieving that. he manages to further entangle himself with dowoon, gets their lips to meet, feverishly kissing again and again. their tongues sliding past each other and pressing against each other. wonpil sighs in delight.

“dowoonie... cum—i’m gonna c—” wonpil chokes up on a yelp, caused by dowoon’s instantaneous change of pace. it’s got wonpil pleading now for release, for more of dowoon, for more of how good he makes love to him. wonpil can feel the stutter of dowoon’s hips, the way his cock twitches and throbs inside him. wonpil's nails lightly dig his into his back, desperate, holding onto dear life.

his thrusts have gotten harder, this position making dowoon fill him deeper. wonpil bounces from the force and their bunk bed groans louder.

the air is forced out of wonpil’s lungs. it’s hard to focus on breathing when dowoon is giving it to him so good. he’s shaking, trying desperately to keep his hips in time with dowoon’s. “dowoon— please—” wonpil struggles to catch his breath and form coherent sentences past mumbling moans, gasping, whimpering.

dowoon hisses, shifting his body weight forward so wonpil falls back into the fluff of blankets and pillows again. he looks so cute and sexy all at the same time, immediately spreading his legs for dowoon again, his hard cock flushing a rosey pink as it lays against his tummy.

dowoon’s quickly reaching his limit. he slips back inside of wonpil, and it’s his turn to groan as wonpil wraps his legs around his waist and pulls him in deeper quicker than he’s able to handle.

but wonpil’s suddenly arching his back, his muscles tense. gasping as his body lights like an inferno, with a loud moan, he’s coming again before dowoon can even move. “dowoonie—!” wonpil reaches up opening and closing his hands for dowoon to take and intertwine their fingers together. dowoon starts to move his hips to fuck wonpil further into his second orgasm. hard, deep thrusts that shake wonpil’s core. wonpil’s unable to hold back the sobs that tears through his whole body as thick ropes of white coat his stomach. hiccuping, “aahh—love you— i love you, i love you!”

it didn’t matter how much they had shared ‘i love yous’ before, every time wonpil said it dowoon could feel butterflies in his stomach, and in times like these, he could feel the blood rush to his cock. his thrusts falter. “i love you, too.” dowoon presses his head against wonpil’s shoulders, and tilts it down to watch where he connects with wonpil, to watch just how he disappears inside him. with a groan, he cums deep into wonpil, filling him.

his body slumps on to wonpil’s after a quick peck to his lips. both of them being reduced to a pile of sticky, sweaty bodies. they don’t exchange a single word. a comfortable, blissed out silence. it takes a good few minutes until the room is short of their heavy breathes. dowoon squeezes wonpil’s handa as he raises himself up to look down at him and pull out.

wonpil’s eyes are glossy, his cheeks red from the afterglow of sex. his hair is a mess, sticking every which way, and his lips are swollen from their constant kissing. it’s so damn cute, the way he’s looking so intensely back at him.

“kiss me...” wonpil murmurs, tilting his head up, closing his eyes to leave him no choice (not that he was complaining.)  
their lips fall into a good rhythm against each other’s. making out, their lips part with a smack several times, hard to accept each kiss as the last. they only stop when their lungs begin to protest at the onslaught of shallow breaths between each smooch.  
dowoon takes it as an opportunity to wrap the two of them up in their comforter and slip into cuddling, something that has become second nature when they’re in bed together. small chatter breaks out between them, dowoon’s going on about something that wonpil responds to by giggling or smiling big and bright like he always does. and he gets so far into some crazy story when he releases that wonpil had stopped any sort of response quite a bit ago.

“hyung?” dowoon tries.

...no answer.

dowoon smiles softly, his eyes getting droopier and droopier. he drifts off to sleep himself.


End file.
